Muslim Youth Musingshttp://mymonline.org
An Islamic Literary MagazineWed, 25 Mar 2015 20:32:39 +0000en-UShourly1http://wordpress.org/?v=4.1.1http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/http://creativecommons.org/images/public/somerights20.gifSome Rights ReservedOn Air with Radio Islamhttp://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MuslimYouthMusings/~3/t7LOs8InURY/
http://mymonline.org/on-air-radio-islam/#commentsMon, 23 Mar 2015 17:09:32 +0000http://mymonline.org/?p=5696<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/fatimah-waseem/">Fatimah Waseem</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
<div><img width="300" height="67" src="http://mymonline.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/181297_3247643_wave_l-300x67.png" class="attachment-medium wp-post-image" alt="radio waves" /></div>
<p><em>At MYM, we believe today’s writers should write to craft a better tomorrow. In line with our mission, we sat down for our first major radio interview in a segment called, “Tomorrow’s Writers Making an Impression Today.”</em></p>
<p><em>The segment was part of WCEV’s </em><a href="http://www.radioislam.com"><em>Radio Islam</em></a><em>, a Chicago-based talk show that covers news, environment, health and many other topic. Radio Islam broadcasts in America’s third largest market of 7.8 million listeners.</em></p>
<p><em>Read an abridged transcript prepared by Zara Tariq or listen to <a href="https://soundcloud.com/muslim-youth-musings/radio-islam-interview-with-mym">the live interview</a>. Meet our editor-in-chief, Fatimah Waseem, learn about what happens behinds the screen and challenge yourself to think about the future of Islamic literature. </em></p>
<h2>Abridged Transcript</h2>
<p><strong>Host: When did you find your passion for story telling? When did it happen and how did it happen?</strong></p>
<p>Fatimah: For me it happened late. I think I’m the opposite of the guest speaker you’ve already had on the show, like you mentioned. It started for me in freshman year of college when I took internship at a local newspaper, a Muslim newspaper. And I did it really just so I could have something to do over the summer and I realized that I really liked reporting, I really liked talking to people, putting together stories, and I think that’s really where my love for writing and reporting really started. Before that, not really.</p>
<p><strong>Host: Okay so you had your eyes set on medical school, you get to college, college kind of undid that. What did your parents say, </strong>&#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/on-air-radio-islam/">On Air with Radio Islam</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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http://mymonline.org/i-will-not-be-gunned-down/#commentsMon, 23 Feb 2015 23:30:28 +0000http://mymonline.org/?p=5689<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/shaziya-barakat/">Shaziya Barkat</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
<div><img width="300" height="125" src="http://mymonline.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/i-will-not-be-gunned-down1-300x125.jpg" class="attachment-medium wp-post-image" alt="folds of red cloth" /></div>
<p>I stood staring at myself in the mirror, carefully wrapping my headscarf around my hair. The image stared back at me, clear as water. And that purity made me cringe. I struggle against the tide every day, against the norm of society, to fully embody the image in that mirror. I knew that it would not be as simple as draping a cloth over my head, classifying me as a Muslim. Rather, it would take the reconciliation of two very different elements of nature. I didn’t truly recognize the force of the tides till bigotry recently turned into actions of hate.</p>
<p>On Tuesday, February 10, 23-year-old Deah Shaddy Barakat, his 21-year-old wife Yusor Mohammad, and her 19-year-old sister Razan Mohammad Abu-Salha were murdered near the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill campus by 46-year-old Craig Hicks. Why? Because of their Muslim identity. Just like many of us, these students were young and ambitious. They were innocent and full of dreams and passions. They had much to offer the world.</p>
<p>Thousands attended the funeral to remember the great spirits of the three victims. Deah, Razan and Yusor embodied what it meant to be compassionate, selfless and determined. They used what they had to give back to the community and to those across the world. They are and will always be a shining example for what it means to be a true Muslim. “At the end of the day,” states Sameer Abdel-Khalek, a family friend of Barakat, “It shows the light that &#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/i-will-not-be-gunned-down/">I Will Not Be Gunned Down</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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http://mymonline.org/painting-tomorrow/#commentsThu, 19 Feb 2015 18:18:36 +0000http://mymonline.org/?p=5686<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/muhtasham-sifaat/">Muhtasham Sifaat</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
<div><img width="300" height="110" src="http://mymonline.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/painting-for-tomorrow-300x110.jpg" class="attachment-medium wp-post-image" alt="strokes of paint" /></div>
<p>It was a walk like any other on a bright Sunday morning, nearing noon. A summer walk on a dirt trail, the kind if you would stop and look up, a drop of sweat would run down from your temple as you scan the surrounding trees, seeing their patches filled by flickers of light, the sun veiled by the edges of their edges. Under the green shining so vibrantly against the blue sky, I began to wonder about a place much brighter than here.</p>
<p>In that place, I would find my father in deep thought, his frail white hair once again a spruce of black. I would sit next to him and talk about his poems. The lines would feel young and mention flowers and their likes. His word would bring a thought or a shrug &#8211; either one, it would be shaped by the molds of the stanzas and made unforgettable. There, besides the man who defined my very world, would be everlasting poetry waiting to be read.</p>
<p>It was a walk in another season. This time, a walk back home passing by dandelions, with their white manes. The fragile, wispy strands from their crowns stretched upward like fingers grasping the passing breeze. It seemed as though they longed to fly over the painting of autumn, a canvas filled with piles of fallen leaves that seemed like clouds on the ground. These clouds were in shades of auburn and orange, almost inviting one to jump into them. Besides these &#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/painting-tomorrow/">Painting for Tomorrow</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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http://mymonline.org/winds-of-destiny/#commentsWed, 18 Feb 2015 23:11:43 +0000http://mymonline.org/?p=5682<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/sanam-zaidi/">Sanam Zaidi</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
<div><img width="300" height="121" src="http://mymonline.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/winds-of-destiny-300x121.jpg" class="attachment-medium wp-post-image" alt="birds fly into distance" /></div>
<p>Every morning I wake up with a beating heart as a reminder, but do I take heed?<br />
How do my scrolls stack up against my deeds?<br />
Constantly sucked into a vortex that is an illusion,<br />
Forgetting that this world is ephemeral, a fancy delusion.<br />
But, then I experience shortness of breath and it&#8217;s difficult to breathe.<br />
Suddenly life&#8217;s purpose comes rushing back to me.<br />
Praying, fasting, Quran and dhikr,<br />
Heading toward Jannah is a race and I want to be quicker.<br />
I excel in deeds, those mandated and obligatory,</p>
<p>But, wait I&#8217;ve heard this before, it&#8217;s the same sad story.<br />
Get an iman rush and fly, going higher than before,<br />
Only to fall just as hard on the same scarred floor.<br />
I’m so caught up in the world&#8217;s disillusion and dreams;<br />
Failing to recognize I’m just a pebble in a stream.<br />
And this stream is headed towards dark, torrential water,<br />
There is no success; on this path I will only falter.<br />
The stream empties into a vast ocean of despair,<br />
I sink lower and lower, with no oxygen, no air.<br />
Drowning in my sins, their weight dragging me to the ocean floor.<br />
I lay there lifeless, thinking, &#8220;Man, there has to be more.&#8221;<br />
Tired of the arguments, tired of telling lies,<br />
I just want to do the right thing, stop living a disillusioned life.<br />
Too stubborn or too ashamed? Who knows why I didn&#8217;t call,<br />
But He already heard me, for He is the one Who knows all.<br />
I thought &#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/winds-of-destiny/">Winds of Destiny</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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http://mymonline.org/celestial-body/#commentsMon, 09 Feb 2015 02:44:05 +0000http://mymonline.org/?p=5674<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/zaheen-uddin/">Zaheen Uddin</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
<div><img width="300" height="124" src="http://mymonline.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/celestial-body-300x124.jpg" class="attachment-medium wp-post-image" alt="image of universe" /></div>
<p>Her face shines brilliantly bright<br />
Especially when she preludes the night<br />
When the breaths of dawn will soon<br />
Show their luminescence to loom<br />
At the end of dawn is the beginning of day<br />
That’s when she shows her beautiful face<br />
Like a sea of tranquility over an ocean of bloom<br />
She reveals herself in the color of blue<br />
You see her face that color, deep and intense<br />
Sometimes you see her perfection covered by dense<br />
Fluffiness like rises from her bright face<br />
White birthmarks that swim from place to place<br />
Dark hair spots her green and brown womb<br />
Pregnant with death brought by life’s doom<br />
And places on her body are golden and hot</p>
<p>While others are cold, white as she cries dots<br />
Due to her makeup running, frozen fragments fall<br />
Her white make-up’s tears drop on her tall<br />
Tanned body making the whiteness hover<br />
Select spots where her truth is blanketed under<br />
The same form of matter that makes up her tears<br />
Life giving drops to her body so clear<br />
She feels for us thus she cries out of mercy<br />
And granted is our wish for those who are worthy<br />
By the One who created her, subject to us<br />
A means for us to reside in for indeed we must<br />
To survive and hide in her skin of strength<br />
Giving us protection for a great length<br />
But don’t get her angry for indeed she is fierce<br />
When her blood boils and bursts out to pierce<br />
Out of her hard &#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/celestial-body/">Celestial Body</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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http://mymonline.org/whoismuhammad/#commentsFri, 30 Jan 2015 18:00:58 +0000http://mymonline.org/?p=5660<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/mym-staff/">MYM Staff</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
<div><img width="300" height="180" src="http://mymonline.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/whoismuhammad-300x180.jpg" class="attachment-medium wp-post-image" alt="#WhoIsMuhammad" /></div>
<p>Spurred by the tragic terror attacks in Paris, Muslims took to social media in January to positively reclaim the image of the Prophet Muhammad. Using the hashtag #WhoIsMuhammad, people from around the world recast what they knew of him: a loving husband who took care of his family; a kind leader who guided his people towards good; a bashful, understanding friend touched modesty upon those around him; an orphan, as human as anyone could be, who became an beacon for us to be inspired by.</p>
<p>He is loved by his followers more than they love themselves and all that they have. Will you join us to learn about who he is?</p>
<h2> <strong><span style="text-decoration: underline;">An Epitome of Modesty, by <a href="http://mymonline.org/author/abd-al-baasit-khan/">Abd Al-Baasit Khan</a></span></strong></h2>
<p>Narrated to be “more bashful than a veiled virgin girl” and “neither uncouth, nor one who shouted in the streets,” the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ was well known by all for his modesty (Bukhari). Even before Prophethood, when he helped with rebuilding the Ka’bah, he would fall to the ground unconscious whenever he attempted to copy those around him and lifted his garment to carry stones. When asked what’s wrong, he replied, “I was stopped from being naked.”</p>
<p>He had much in common with Moses, who was similarly described to be “a modest person whose skin was never seen due to his shyness” (Bukhari). He was so shy that he wouldn’t even ask guests who overstayed their welcome to leave, prompting revelation on the matter. When a slave girl once rudely demanded he give &#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/whoismuhammad/">#WhoIsMuhammad</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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http://mymonline.org/11-tips-consider-proposing-marriage/#commentsTue, 20 Jan 2015 12:11:26 +0000http://mymonline.org/?p=5652<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/arif-kabir/">Arif Kabir</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
<div><img width="300" height="201" src="http://mymonline.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/11-tips1-300x201.jpg" class="attachment-medium wp-post-image" alt="11 Tips" /></div>
<p>A couple of years ago, I was finishing college and beginning to seriously consider marriage. Like many others, I wasn&#8217;t sure how to proceed, I didn&#8217;t know how to ask, and I was dreading the whole idea of proposing. Just the thought of asking and being rejected was enough to make me shudder. That, combined with trying to land a job, made things really stressful.</p>
<p>Fortunately, I received support and guidance from my community as I prepared to propose. I sought advice from married couples and learned from my friends&#8217; experiences as they went through the rites of proposing. I also attended in-depth seminars on the fiqh and psychology of marriage from esteemed scholars and marriage counselors.</p>
<p>When the time came to propose, I was still nervous to speak with my future father-in-law, but I knew I gave it my all in preparing for that moment. To my pleasant surprise, he opened his arms and hugged me right after I asked. I felt peace settling in with that warm embrace, and by the grace of God, everything went smoothly from there.</p>
<p>Fast forward to now. I&#8217;ve learned a lot from my experiences, my friends, and my teachers, and so I’d like to share the following tips that can help you as you get ready to propose. All the best to you as you strive to complete half your deen!</p>
<ol>
<li><strong>Plan how you wish to propose.</strong></li>
</ol>
<p>As you read in my case, I followed the tradition of proposing myself to my &#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/11-tips-consider-proposing-marriage/">11 Tips For A Marriage Proposal</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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http://mymonline.org/on-that-day/#commentsSat, 18 Oct 2014 02:10:46 +0000http://www.muslimyouthmusings.com/?p=5520<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/aamir-shamsi/">Aamir Shamsi</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
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<p>I didn’t know how much more I could take. I wanted to scream. I checked the clock for the umpteenth time; it was 02:00, my heart was racing and I still wasn’t asleep. The palpitations were now being felt in my throat as the level of unease only increased with the passage of time. The windows were all open; the night was silent and cool, yet I still felt like I was burning inside. Within minutes I was drenched in my own sweat. It had become intolerable and I wanted it to end.</p>
<p>It was the night before the most important exam results in my life thus far came out, but it sounded like a scene from a horror movie. Six long years of medical school had amounted to an email scheduled to arrive at some point in the morning with one word: pass or fail.</p>
<p>I once again started to relive my examinations and scrutinise every answer and practical procedure I could remember, even though I knew it would not change the outcome. As I calculated the different permutations of marks I could obtain, I went through cycles of dread and hope; it had become a viscous cycle. The constant and unbreakable worrying was making me sick. I don’t remember ever feeling so scared in my life. It even reached a stage where I was talking to myself out of sheer lunacy; not my finest hour in hindsight. This time it was the final hurdle, the pinnacle of my &#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/on-that-day/">On That Day</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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http://mymonline.org/at-the-heart-of-it-all/#commentsFri, 29 Aug 2014 06:03:13 +0000http://www.muslimyouthmusings.com/?p=5508<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/muhammad-xhemali/">Muhammad Xhemali</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
<div><img width="300" height="191" src="http://mymonline.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/at-the-heart-of-it-all-300x191.jpg" class="attachment-medium wp-post-image" alt="Picture by Jean Yves Lemoigne." /></div>
<p>His brightly polished royally brown oxfords tapped along the cool morning pavement as he rushed to who knows where on a brisk morning. Surrounded by celestial sky scrapers and monumental edifices, he was reminded that he was where he belonged. In front of Copley Square, he noticed a homeless man struggling to find comfort on a bench painted by morning dew. I stood near the intersection’s curb, watching the two classes intersect. It’s these moments that remind me of the deep fissure of inequality that cuts across our society and that can reinforce so many stereotypes if one lets them. However, there is a different way to look at this very same scene.</p>
<p>I’ve passed by this kind of sight daily on my way to school and I’ve realized that the easiest thing to do when passing by someone who looks so destitute is to think that they are lazy people, undeserving of the petty change that rattles in their cup. After all, why can’t they get a job or an education like me and make something of their lives? However, we must step back and contemplate whether such judgments are really an evaluation of these peoples’ character as much as it is an attempt to raise our own image and satisfy our own need to feel superior. The latter is much too often the basis of our critical conclusions.</p>
<p>Abdullah ibn Mas’ud reported that the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him, said, “No one who has the weight &#8230;</p>
<p>Read the rest of the piece by viewing <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/at-the-heart-of-it-all/">At the Heart of it All</a> on Muslim Youth Musings!</p>
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http://mymonline.org/a-souls-return/#commentsFri, 22 Aug 2014 05:46:51 +0000http://www.muslimyouthmusings.com/?p=5501<p>By <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org/author/shahin-indorewala/">Shahin Indorewala</a> • <a rel="nofollow" href="http://mymonline.org">Muslim Youth Musings</a></p>
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<p>She walked with her legs heavy and her soul down. The air was cold and sharp and stung the inside of her nose as she took a deep breath. The sun was hanging low in the sky. In the gloomy path of her shadows, she found her footsteps moving forward. She stared at them as they found her from behind, trapping her feet into chains from which she could no longer escape. In a way like time does, her heart had creased with the same mistakes and the sidewalk caught her every step gently, as if to say that it felt her pain.</p>
<p>He grows grass —not every blade the same but they remain loyal to to His remembrance. She was not like the righteous ones but she was also His Creation. She plucked a blade of bright green grass and the earthen fragrance edged her with hope of a new beginning. She looked at her hands as tiny drops of water from the pure sky started to fall upon her skin. Her skies were made of fire; they burned her heart every time she ran out of water and her pleas were too silent for anyone to hear. Some things are better left unsaid, but secrets to your Lord are keys to success. Every time her eyes welled up with tears, the rims of her eyes grew thick with pretense and nothing flowed.</p>
<p><em>I’m doing fine. Fine.</em></p>
<p>Now her heart was pressed by distress and her chest was pressed &#8230;</p>
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